


Beginning Again

by Cobalt (carryonmycobaltangel)



Series: Second Ascension [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, References to Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 22:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6096100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carryonmycobaltangel/pseuds/Cobalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All he wanted was to fix things. To move on from the tragedies in his life, but sometimes that's not always possible. But what happens when the Future and the Past collide to shift the already shaky grounds of the current Present? What unforeseen consequences will be made for every move made every step taken, and are they ready to handle them? [Book 1 in  the "Second Ascension" Series]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning Again

**Disclaimer:** All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

For the sake of copyright, this publisher does not own any part of _Supernatural_ (Plot, Characters, etc.) in which all rights go to the original owners. All original characters, plot, etc, are reserved to the fanfiction writer CarryOnMyCobaltAngel/carryonmycobaltangel and associates.

* * *

 

Once vibrant greens and browns covered the vast landscape of oak and pine trees overshadowing a camp of sorts filled with run down wooden cabins and a chain link gate manning the front entrance. The branches reached towards the endless, dusty sky in hopes of somehow ripping a hole in the clouds to let in sunshine that hasn’t graced its presence in ten years, not since the world went all to Hell. Some say the environment resembles more of Purgatory than anything else because of how quiet–too quiet–everything is; no breeze rustling the branches or birds chirping away to the tunes of their songs, nothing, but dead silence.

A young, five foot five, male figure stood upon a small hill overlooking the aforementioned camp, watching among the grasses and trees of his surroundings. This environment was nothing new to him; just another ordinary day being covered in dirt, blood, and grime that couldn’t be washed away no matter how hard one scrubbed. It seeps into his short, muddy, brown hair not knowing where the hair strands start and the caked mud ends, his once bright white T-shirt and acid wash jeans clad in patched holes from wear and tear, to the red Converse shoes that’s seen its better days and his pale complexion of rounded features that of an innocent child. It tinged everything in sight except his shining teal colored eyes; for all the horrors he had witnessed not once had they dulled.

Inching closer to the edge trying not to make any sudden sounds, he spotted a woman appearing to be in her early thirties walking in high stride as if on a mission into the camp some twenty feet away. Just like the man watching above, blood and dirt covered her shoulder-length, auburn curly hair, down her pale skinned features, the now heavily torn navy tank top, a black leather jacket with a large tear on the right arm (still oozing out the red liquid), to her dark wash jeans sporting rips along the bottom, and black severely scuffed boots still holding on with everything it has.

He watched her for a moment before turning around. “Sir,” his young, higher-toned voice alerted behind him. Another man much taller than him, roughly five foot ten, walked up to investigate, coming out of the shadows of the surrounding trees upon the hill. A dark jacket with a gray T-shirt underneath covered his upper body while black jeans and combat boots clad his lower half. Just like his partner, the uncleanliness of the environment grabbed onto him and would not let go. Smudged and smeared over his tanned features, his dark brown hair with a comb over to the left, strong jaw line, somewhat muscular frame and around his deep ocean eyes that held all the emotions since they drained what was left of him.

They both looked to the woman who was almost to the gate, only some twelve feet left to go. Her injuries didn’t seem to bother her but the taller man knew better; inside her was nothing but sadness and pain. Gone are the days of pure happiness when everything was put back in order, no impending doom looming over everyone’s shoulders, no high stakes to deal with, and no Big Bad to defeat. It was all short lived; now all of Heaven and Hell broke loose, setting that weight back to where it should not have gone in the first place.

The taller man’s ocean orbs watched her intently for a minute, his facial expression was steeled. But his eyes, oh his eyes, held such emotions and feelings that twisted, turned, rolled, and churned like waves of the great stormy seas. Each single sensation ran into the next, creating a kaleidoscope of feelings that were dredging up.

Shifting his weight in the tall, dead weeds surrounding their feet caused a noise to echo down below. Freezing in her tracks, she spun on her heels making her hair follow the motion fluidly, revealing her darkened gunmetal blue eyes. She reached under her jacket for a weapon stashed at the small of her back as if on instinct while she surveyed the area around her, gripping it tightly in her hand; a long and silver, triangular shaped blade with rounded hilt. She was ready for any kind of attack despite being battered, bruised, and bloody.

Her gaze landed on the hill where both figures stood frozen not ready to be caught. Her eyes squint in concentration, seeing if anything was stationed upon it, only to find out it was just a hill. Slowly turning back to the direction of the campsite after checking that everything was clear, but not wanting to drop her guard yet for precautionary measures, she headed off through the gates, to her final destination.

It was the longest minute they had ever experienced in quite some time. The shorter man let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and within the next second, the cogs in his brain started to turn, going through the ideas and assessments that came about; why did they travel here? Why this place specifically, and who is that woman? A string of similar thought spun in his mind all the while trying to sort them out.

The taller man’s eyes appeared distant, lost in deep thought unknowingly until he broke out that left him immediately confused only for a couple seconds. It was easy for his mind to wander, to be enveloped by the thoughts nowadays. He couldn’t help it and it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose.  Ever since things had changed drastically for him, it very well could have been a coping mechanism to escape the horror he’s seen, drifting to the good and wonderful memories but they don’t always work as well as people seem to think, however.

It took another moment of thinking until the shorter man came to a few conclusions. "Is that the reason you wanted to come here of all places? To see the woman who has a shocking resemblance to—Wait," the younger man started to say while his brain worked on connecting the final dots. This can’t be true. There was no way he would even think about taking that route! His eyes widened at the realization and let out a small, inaudible breath. “You can't be serious?”

"Samandriel," The taller man warned, keeping his head focused down below.

"Castiel, please don't tell me this is what I think you're trying to accomplish," Samandriel replied turning to fully face his friend, fearful of what the answer would be to his suspicions. He wouldn't purposely try to do something this grand without acknowledging the consequences....right?

Castiel then decided to risk a glance to look at Samandriel's face, but regretted his decision before casting his view away from his friend’s shocked expression.

That was all the confirmation Samandriel needed. "Do you realize the consequences this could create for not only you, Castiel, but for the others as well?"

Castiel sent out another quiet sigh before answering. "I understand that."

Samandriel's face scrunched minutely in confusion. "What are you going to do when everything ends up going in a completely different direction that how you originally planned?"

"I’ll worry about it when the time comes and until then, I’m keeping the plan in motion," Castiel replied, shortly. He was starting to become annoyed that Samandriel wouldn't drop the subject matter but he knew that Samandriel was only being worried for his well-being.

"Eventually that will backfire on you.  If you go through with this, you could very well burn yourself out completely,” Samandriel noted.

"That's enough, Samandriel."

"All that I'm saying is, who will that help? More specifically, how will that help her if you plan on going through with this?"

"Please, just drop the subject," Castiel chided, using more force in his voice than he meant to. As long as it got the point across, he really didn't care, just as long the conversation about that particular subject wasn't brought up again.

Without wasting another second more, he turned to the way he came and headed off back into the tree’s shadows. _I won't go through it again...No one deserves to experience those horrors,_ Castiel thought to himself as he walked away, the faint sensation of tears welled up in his eyes. His friend was about to say something else but decided against it, not risking another argument. Samandriel then followed suit behind his friend until he stopped short to take one last look behind him. A sad sigh entered the dead air as he swiveled around, walking away from the dreary scene.

~*x*~

The sun shone brightly on a beautiful day during middle July out in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Not a cloud was in sight and the temperature was a scorching ninety degrees Fahrenheit with a soft, cool breeze gently blowing around the surrounding property of the old Singer Salvage yard just a few miles outside of town. Covering the vast size of grounds were various makes and models of old and somewhat newer cars of all shapes, sizes, and colors with an open, garage sitting off in the corner by the entrance.

In a short walking distance away sat an old, three story house where the light blue paint chipped away to reveal wood siding. Decorative hubcaps lined one area in front of the house by the slanted roof and enclosed railings of the medium-sized porch. It wasn’t much to look at on the outside of the Salvage yard property, but the inside was what made it special, especially for those who love mythology and history. Every downstairs room had the faint scent of aging wood and whiskey, it wouldn’t be the most pleasant mixture in the world to some people, and others could breathe it in like air. Papers, books, magazines scattered in about every single room in the house, all stacked in cluttered piles about lore from all over the world; Scotland, Germany, Russia, Japan, France, England, etc., and from many different religions with a multitude of varying creatures ranging from the normal ghosts and ghost hauntings, to the ever so mysterious reapers.

In a small corner of the 1950’s style kitchen of pastel colored walls, sat a tiny wooden table surrounded by four accompanying chairs. More papers and books covered the top with vast amounts of lore, outlines and notes. Some of which were filled out by the young, twenty-four year old woman sitting with her legs crossed neatly, in hopes of beating the high humidity levels, wearing her usual variation of laid back attire; a tan tank top, black with white trim shorts, and an old pair of Skechers. Her back-length, auburn curly hair was wrapped in a high, messy bun to keep it from sticking to her easily sun burnt face (she’s been planning for a while to get it cut, but never really followed through with it).

Despite sweating buckets, she was trying to enjoy herself while gunmetal blue eyes scanned the page in front of her, a mechanical pencil in hand scratching across the paper, while doing her best to keep her mind occupied and away from the creeping black smoke of the dreams rolling around in her subconscious; just let the mind and hand wander across the page and go from there. It always seemed to work for whenever she had the time between jobs, researching, and helping Bobby out in the Salvage Yard.

Sketching, drawing, anything with a pencil, was always something she loved to do ever since she was a kid. Her father used to draw when he was younger so when she saw his artwork way back at age seven, she immediately became fascinated. Whenever she was attempting to draw something from a TV show and she couldn’t get one part right, off she went to find her dad to help. Eventually she grew away from drawing from TV and started making her own creations, growing and changing her styles that soon became something between semi-realism and full realism. It was a passion for her as well a way to connect with her father, since she ended up taking more after her father in more ways than one compared to her mother.

“—lissa.”

“Alissa—”

“Alissa!”

She then felt a quick tap of the back of a hand on her upper arm, making her to jolt, almost causing a dark mark to fly across her drawing. Swiveling her head, she looked up to see the culprit, and standing next to her was an older, five foot eleven, man wearing a red shirt with a green and white flannel with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, a pair of dirty and stained blue jeans. He had soft blue-gray eyes on his rounded face, graying beard and an old trucker’s cap fastened securely on his short, peppered hair.

”Hey, sorry. Didn’t mean to spook ya,” he apologized with his gruff voice. "Been callin' ya a few times but I guess ya didn't hear me. Spacin’ out n’ all, but normally you do," and despite his outward appearance, the first impression many people would come to is that of a mean old drunk. Underneath all of that though, he had a large heart and was willing to push people in the right direction when they really needed it; sometimes it wasn’t always gentle persuasion, but in the end he did manage to get the point across, and that was just how he rolled. “You okay? No nightmares or anything?”

She leaned forward with an inward huff of annoyance, placing her drawing in the middle of the table on top of the large pile. This was the umpteenth time he asked her that since she started living here about a couple years ago (unofficially moving somewhat from her apartment in Grand Rapids to Sioux Falls), and every time it’s roughly the same answer.

“Yes, Bobby, I’m all right,” the woman reassured him after regaining her composure from the scare with a small smile as she rubbed her right eye with the knuckle of her accompanying index finger. “Nothing to worry about. Just kinda got too caught up in drawing. Sorry,” readjusting her sitting position, she uncrossed her legs carefully from the wooden chair (since apparently the skin had stuck to the surface) and looked up at him again, who had his gaze facing down and away from her.

The man-now named Bobby-shifts his eyes at the table to where her work in progress sat and decided to look it over. It was a shaded bust of a middle aged woman with dark hair in loose ringlets with a great amount of her bangs on the right side reaching just past her shoulder blades, light skin, rounded face, small nose, large bright eyes, and dark, long sleeved shirt. There was a calming vibe coming off the page with warm, genuine smile on her medium-sized lips. He looked pleasantly surprised on the amount of detail the image had; he was always surprised, you could even say excited, because he never met anyone who could capture that amount of detail in their work to make it so life like. “This is looking pretty good," he complimented, a smile on his face and in his voice. “Hey, why don’t you take a break ‘n run upstairs for me? I’ve got some lore books stashed in the attic that I need. Wanna go up ‘n grab ‘em?” He offered, placing a hand on the back of the chair she sat in, shifting his weight.

Dropping her head to glance at her artwork then up to Bobby, she nodded and got up slowly from the wooden chair as her skin stuck to the surface once again. “Yeah, I can do that,” she answered while walking past him as he explained what they looked like. She headed out the door frame at the opposite side of the room of the table, in through the living room past the old, rust colored sofa, in through another archway by the front door leading to the wooden stairs elevating to the second level of the house. She had to be careful because some of the steps were becoming awfully creaky. They were good for people breaking into the home (like they ever would with the amount of traps hidden among the place), but not so good when someone was sneaking out.

“Be right back!” she called out, jogging up the steps, her messy bun flopping around with each movement, causing stray hairs to fall out of place.

Bobby watched as she made her way up the stairs. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was only acting happy for him like she didn't want to bother him with her troubles. He knew she wasn't getting enough sleep by the way her eyes looked and how dark the circles were underneath them. It was absurd to think that she didn't tell him what was bothering her so much that she wasn't able to get the proper amount of sleep. He had a feeling it pertained to nightmares of her past but he wasn't sure. He definitely wasn't going to push her. He wanted to wait until she felt ready to tell him. But he won't wait forever, and not until the point where it gets to be too much either. He then sighed and went to his oak desk in the living room where another ancient book was patiently waiting to be read by a somewhat impatient man with a glass full of whiskey.

~*x*~

About twenty minutes passed by and she was still sifting through the vast amount of dirt and grime stuck in every nook and cranny in the room as she sat in the middle of the room on the floor (after she had cleaned it). She could only go as fast as the clutter allowed as there were stacks upon stacks of books, tomes, magazines, pamphlets, flyers galore everywhere in the small mudroom-sized space.

At her left side along the back wall hung a medium sized, circular window and a small, teal colored bench seat to sit and admire the view of the entirety of Singer Salvage. It was always a nice spot to read or draw if one needed someplace with peace and quiet but once it got dark there wasn’t much lighting since the window was the main source of light unless the oils lamps by the book shelves and the small bench seat counted.

Alissa let out a very annoyed sigh as she plopped down another book in the “looked through” pile stationed to her left and clapped her hands to get rid of the dust and such that was on them. She had already found one of the books that Bobby wanted so now it was the hunt to find the other. Getting up off the floor to go grab another stack, since the other pile of “not looked through” had disappeared, she headed over to the twin sized bed located directly behind her. She grabbed one more giant pile, placed them on the floor where the old one resided, and quickly got to work again.

“Jeez, Bobby,” she groaned, getting frustrated at the amount of volumes he had in there. This was unbelievable! There was absolutely no reason to have so much literature in one room, let alone the whole house! No reason whatsoever. “Something needs to be done about all of this. It’s too much; too much clutter and too many books,” she complained as she glanced through the pages of a book she held in her hands before setting it down in another stack. “Either get rid of them or reorganize them,” she picked up one more book with a bored expression on her face that was soon replaced with joy once she had read the title and skimmed the first few pages. “Ha!” She shouted a little too loud for the small space. “About damn time I found it!”

“Alissa!” the happy moment was cut short when a yell sounded from downstairs.

She whipped her head to the door, stopping what she was doing for a quick second. Her brain immediately went into red alert mode.

 _Sounded like..._ “Bobby.”

“Bobby?” She grabbed both books and high-tailed it out of the room, stumbling a few times on the way out. Flying down the ladder from the attic, through the winding hallway past the bedroom doors, “Bobby?!” and stopped right at the landing of the stairs leading to the first floor. “Bobby? Are you okay? What’s going on?” Alissa asked slightly out of breath as she grabbed onto the railing of the stairs carefully walking down the noisy, wooden steps while many scenarios were playing in her mind; the majority weren’t the ‘best case’ ones either.

The man in question stood at the bottom against the wall with a hand on the wooden banister in a relaxed stance and a smile on his face, looking up to Alissa. He was happy about something. Just what that was, she didn't quite know. Her mind was still on high alert but when she looked at Bobby, she finally eased. He jerked his head in the direction of the living room, giving a vague response to her quizzical look on her face, “Seems like you got some company.”

Alissa’s facial expression morphed with furrowed brows of confusion before hesitantly making her way down the rest of the stairs, a hand firmly grasping the railing. Passing off the requested books to Bobby, she rounded the wooden banister to investigate until she stopped short. Bright eyes widening in surprise when she was greeted by a familiar woman standing at the front door. “Elyse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction that's been in the works since March of 2014. Things have been going up and down for a long time with this work and I can finally say that I'm happy where it's at--although currently it's going through some revisions that will take a bit of time to accomplish. This was originally on FF.net and Wattpad but I decided to finally transfer it to ao3. Hope everyone is doing well and I shall see you all next chapter update!
> 
> ~Cobalt


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